


Destiny Tower Field Journal

by Mimiga



Category: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon
Genre: Gen, If you couldn't already tell it was a journal, Journal, Journal-style, Post-Game, Post-Game Storyline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7306693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimiga/pseuds/Mimiga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had finally come-- a divine beckoning for the Grandmaster explorer and human-turned Servine, along with his Braixen partner. Climb Destiny Tower, and seek the audience which is long past due since the quelled apocalypse. With a place so likely riddled with ancient history and anthropological significance, who better to tag along for the journey than the curious and collected Mawile? These pages are her personal accounts of the grand ascension so few have made up the tower of the gods. (SPOILERS: PSMD)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Destiny Tower Field Journal

###### 

Entry 1 

It is the onset of Autumn, currently past sundown at the Water Continent Expedition Society. I am Mawile, gold rank forward explorer and the site's veteran historian and archaeologist. With this first entry we are finally finished packing and are set to depart early tomorrow morning. Despite how well-supplied the society is, it took far too long to decide what was absolutely essential for what will seem to be an extremely lengthy undertaking, especially due to how little space is available and the severity of the mission. This is openly theorized to be the most pressing outing we've experienced in the last two years. 

To apply some backstory before I get too ahead of myself, two of our top members ended up receiving an incredibly important message as some sort of divine vision. The fabled voice of Arceus seemed to have contacted them from out of the blue and beckoned for them to make the climb up Destiny Tower of the underpopulated northern isles. The message insisted they seek audience at the very top where the sky crossed into stars, reportedly that the encounter was long overdue. 

To reinforce the relevance of this and not have them written off as hysterical fanatics, I am obligated to say that it was not the first time the two made divine contact in just such a way. The Servine and Braixen in question are the heroes which were destined to quell the Dark Matter apocalypse two years ago from now, each being the reincarnated beings of an ancient human and Mew respectively. Their presence among celestial beings is not quite so insignificant that it's very much believable such a meeting may be requested after all. 

Additionally allow it to be noted that these logs will always refer to these two as their species and not the names which they are known by. It's somewhat of a formality they've taken to in the recent times, most pokemon don't really require much more of a title these days. Even the Society conformed to this readily despite us all easily being able to recall their names. Now the only place you'll hear such things are in old recollections of Dark Matter and on the whispers of those two as they murmur to each other. 

Anyway, they received the message four days ago and ever since the preparations have been absolutely fierce. However, it's given me plenty of time to research Arceus' domain and deduce why they summoned the two partners. Besides the obvious reasons of why Servine and Braixen were summoned regarding their past endeavors, it can be reasoned that past mythical interactions and reputable power are strong points. Power specifically referring to their Grandmaster Explorer ranking and notoriety throughout the world as saviors and the such. Mythical interaction is their reported encounters and battles with other legendary pokemon, as well as the contacts they've formed. To be perfectly honest it was only a matter of time before this kind of thing would happen. 

###### 

I've also been delving deep into records on the tower the same they delved into dungeons to get to this point. There was truthfully very little I could find on it, unsurprising considering that the body of land it stood on was surrounded by a shrouded and extremely misleading sea. Most of our modern knowledge proved no matches and very few have entered the tower in recent times and came back out alive. There have been reports, but of course those leads drew up cold the second you tried putting a finger on them. All that was left was a name and a few vague lines which only furthered the ante. 

To make a few nights of research short, Destiny Tower was the true domain of deities and self-introspection. It's peak is far too high for any normal airborne pokemon to reach with the exception of Rayquaza itself. There have been several in our time who have made the journey, but as previously stated none of which can be located by conventional means. This is quite surprising with the potent global reach of the Nexus at this current moment, but alas if things were so easy then they wouldn't involve Braixen. 

Such an opportunity to be able to personally undergo the tower was an enthralling thought for me to say the least. At first the two were bent on making the journey with only each other despite the strong hints I expressed to take me along. It wasn't until last night during one such exchange that the Society's leader Ampharos stepped in and gave me a chance. He agreed that the historical and anthropological significance within those halls still hidden was a plenty strong enough argument to bring me along, and in his words, "She can do the recording of such dull things so you don't have to yourselves!" 

It would be agreed upon that the three of us would reevaluate the supplies we'd be taking and make leave two days from then. Servine had mentioned many times I would end up carrying most of the burden of our equipment, I strained that I was perfectly fine with this. First and foremost I'd be a historian, recording and making sense of all I could while those two did what they did best. I'm sure that my own abilities are sluggish and rusty in comparison to the raw combat prowess and tenacity they practiced from their adventures. They've taken on far too many unquestionably powerful legends for me to compare the same, even the few years ago when they were still children I was eclipsed by their overwhelming enthusiasm to improve. 

The creation of this journal wasn't originally my idea to begin with, it was actually an order from Ampharos to write up my personal recollections in this format along with other separate research. I suppose it's good for general prosperity as well as to help me sort out my thoughts and findings in a more approachable format. For now though there's not much else I could really write about. All that's left until then is hopefully a good night's sleep, a fairly boring and drawn out ride from the Lapras services, and getting into the tower in the first place. At least it's exciting that the next time a pen touches these pages will be from within a long forgotten holy site.

###### 

Entry 2, 6 hours 38 minutes elapsed 

It's even more than I could have imagined. The vast powers at work which encompass these halls are far beyond my current comprehension and anything I've ever seen. I couldn't give a scientific description of how this place exists in the way it does despite any of my best efforts. There are a thousand tiny details I could list off that I'm not even sure are significant or not. 

I can't get ahead of myself, these pages are best kept in chronological order so that it's less a painful process to decipher later on. Servine, Braixen, and I boarded a Lapras in the early dawn and spoke our ambitions for the day. The only reason they'd ever think to take us through such treacherous waters were mutual agreements and contracts with the Society, and even then they were apprehensive. What followed was the gruelingly dull task of treading water for several further hours. The monotonous motion of the waves grows very quickly as entertaining as watching the sun constantly curve into the sky, such was very typical of overseas travel. The two partners spoke very little yet remained in close proximity with the other as usual. 

The waters surrounding the northern isles were only mildly choppy, but a grand wall of fog very quickly encompassed us to inhibit our vision. Eventually we did see the sunlight once again upon arriving at the verdant landmass. Our destination was immediately apparent and proceeded to stick out like a sore thumb for the rest of time. It was pretty hard to miss the building which stood so tall that it pierced through an upper layer of clouds. One could spend an eternity just wondering how it kept standing in such a way for as long as it has. 

Upon landing we made swift contact with Dedenne and Ampharos, who laid out again our (read: my) orders to be enacted once inside the tower. As if I needed a command to dive into an ancient temple and go mad with making notes. We finally agreed to call back if at all possible once inside, then began to make our way inland. For such vibrant flora the island was incredibly silent the whole way through, almost like it was already hallowed from the beginning. 

Destiny Tower itself couldn't have been more than a hundred yards in diameter, it's structure entirely consisting of a meticulous yet simple pattern of large grey stone bricks. The view directly upward was even further obstructed by clouds from the base. Even if a flying type had the stamina to make such a demanding ascent then the air would still remain too thin for them to breath for the effort. I was getting dizzy just standing at the bottom and looking up. 

###### 

We did a final check of equipment before circling around to find the entrance. Each member was given five Reviver Seeds for independent use, as well as one Energy Seed in the case there was an emergency. The rest of the weight which I would have to burden was my field instruments (Looking glass, pens and plenty of paper, the likes) and our shared consumables like food and elixirs. Once we determined there was only enough rations to give between just two people the topic came of the looplets we would use. Servine was the swiftest scout of us and would be given an artifact which the two dug up themselves, an emera brace which was said to manipulate the metabolism of the wearer so that calories were only burned just above resting state. If I recall correctly the referred to it as the Satiated Looplet. 

Braixen unveiled an intricate brown band which she wore as a collar, an artifact dubbed ever so thoughtfully as the Mist Looplet. Apparently it would store a small portion of energetic momentum from her attacks so that repeated exertion be less straining on the body. I had my own looplet at home which I could have taken along, but yesterday they insisted I use another of the treasures they uncovered. A blue circlet which was to raise my vitality and pain tolerance as to counteract most of the damage sustained from whatever we encountered. I supposed it would be rude and detrimental to scoff at the offering of such a useful and priceless relic. 

Finally at that point we were prepared to make our entry to Destiny Tower proper. Upon stumbling upon the unassuming entrance we found a stone tablet engraved with the same ancient language which I first encountered during the Dark Matter incident. While I've become decently fluent at translating the writing since then, Braixen used her inherent knowledge to interpret it before I even had a chance to use my abilities. While I've copied down the message multiple times already in both languages, I'll still insert it a third time here for elaboration. 


> "All ye who enter the domain of repentance,

> Absolve thy sins and face to thy demons.

> For inside there will lack another chance [to do so]."


The other documents I will later have attached to these journal entries possess the exact scrawls and lengthy introspection along with a few illustrations. I figure it to be a wise action to keep my flighty research and these clean post-observations separate to improve the quality. Certainly I'd run out of room to keep writing on like this otherwise if between the lines were a constant flow of scribbles and ideas. 

###### 

Anyway, the warning adhered finely with the research I had done in the last few days. The trials we might end up finding deeper inside might need reference to the passage in order to be completed. After taking note of this mentally and physically Braixen created a source of light and we all piled into the tiny hallway to search for more significance upon the walls. Farther within an opening became apparent and shined with a dull golden light, that was when a great wave of foreboding seemed to wash over each of our minds all at once. Whether the feeling was coincidental or artificial I don't quite know, but we made our way forward despite it. 

With a mighty slam behind us a barrier fell from the ceiling and sealed us in for good. Apparently the dungeon very strongly insisted we persist onward, as now the only option was straight ahead. The moment we stepped away from the tunnel the world seemed to shift into bright yellows and warmth. This was the first marvel which we've found hidden away inside the tower, without any explanation we found ourselves in the center of some kind of temperate desert environment. 

The sand, the sediment, every sense could only justify that we had been teleported to somewhere else. Servine had even taken note that the sun burning above felt as real as the one outside if they weren't the same already. It was as if we entered a portal which lead us straight into the middle of the Sand Continent. Closer inspection later on would reveal that the area inside was indeed a living, breathing ecosystem if we truly were still clamoring about inside the tower. 

Before I got too carried away in the vast wonder I attempted to make contact with the Exploration Society as previously promised. It seems that there's some mysterious interference being given off by our location which ensured that was not possible, which wasn't too far-flung a theory at this point. What this meant in the long run was that our gadgets and badges would be effectively useless within these walls. However, I have decided their other independent functions would make for a fine way to keep track of the time we spend here. It's easy to set a timer on these things, and right now it says we've been inside for six hours and fifty one minutes. 

The dungeon itself seemed to be nothing more than what you'd normally find in the Sand Continent. I'd personally compare it to some of the central habitats inland, judging from the general flora and rock formations. Still the sun perplexed me on whether it was artificially projected or not, also that no wind blew from any direction. The air here is entirely motionless with the exception of our own influences upon it. I'd be more inclined to feel interested if it didn't drastically raise the temperature of every waking moment. 

###### 

There was a strong presence made by the indigenous species from the region we've been spirited away to, but we've deduced that all the creatures who inhabit this environment are fake. Although they behaved as they should in their natural state, each lacked a personality and were feral at best. Even then they were not simply wild pokemon, upon defeat they would dissipate into mist in an unnervingly similar way to the mirages found within the Voidlands. Still the two couldn't quite be entirely juxtaposed, the spirits there were so incredibly aggressive that natural behaviours were forgone for sheer relentless hunting instinct. 

Since the pokemon illusions we fought adhered to the area, it was common for us to find various rock and ground types rising to meet our advances. This would immediately place Braixen and I at a tactical disposition within the dungeon. Luckily my task was mostly just to survey and observe, and what I would come to observe most so far was how two Grandmaster explorers dealt with such a disadvantage. It was plain to see the hardened team that won the respect of countless ancient lords to get here, clockwork in movement and nearly too swift to catch with the naked eye. Servine took the lead and somehow always spun out of the way for Braixen's ranged attacks despite a lack of vocalization. The way they guarded each other seemed almost too intimate to observe. 

Though it wasn't as if they couldn't handle themselves if the situation called for it. The strength the two accumulated through experience and training was nothing to scoff at, I can personally recall the times they returned to the Society after a conditioning day and collapsed on the doorstep from exhaustion. It was unhealthy how many supplements they spent their hard-earned money on in order to enhance their efforts. Ampharos actually had them take vacations after such retreats and forced them to space out the sessions just for fear of them getting overworked and wounding themselves. It's hard to believe that their ambition was so strong simply because one stoked the other. 

Anyway, we've been in the tower (technically) for a few hours now and believe we've found the way forward. Nearly hidden in plain sight within a cliff was a shadowy set of stairs consisting of the same stone pattern found on the outside walls. I haven't had the opportunity to check inside for more carvings however, it has been decided that we would rest before checking out the abnormality. 

We've set up camp in a dusty cave not too far from the stairs, which is where I've taken the time to write now. We'll get some sleep before attempting to move on considering how late in the day we arrived to the northern isle. By all means the world outside would have already plunged into dusk, yet here it's the same time of day as when we arrived through the passage. Either the sun is moving too slowly for our perceptions to catch or it's just not going to move at all. This aspect I found to be quite similar in nature to the stagnant air, which also is fixated on stillness. Unfortunately that means it's really damn hot in this tiny little cave. 

###### 

Rations already went out fine for the day and barely made a scratch in our supply. Despite the lack of need Servine still found a few temperate-growing fruits to snack on. Apparently it wasn't too pleasant when you go an entire dungeon eating absolutely nothing and take the looplet off once it's finished. I figure your body would believe it hadn't been getting nutrients the whole time, the cramping that follows must be excruciating. Our canteens have been taking the most hits considering we've been treading desert this whole time. Hopefully there will be an oasis or something later on we'll be able to use for refills. For emeras we've gotten nothing special, just a few minor defensive ones and a Payback which was given to protect me. 

I really should attempt to get some rest. The next time we set out will be for the whole day rather than just this half-traveled one. So far I've been extremely impressed with whatever powers managed to fit a timeless rendition of this environment inside a giant stone tower, and I'm extremely excited for what kind of incomprehensible majesty will await us tomorrow. Here's to hoping for more texts to translate and draw meaning from. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

###### 

Entry 3, 17 hours 04 minutes elapsed 

If I met my past self whom thought it too hot to sleep within that desert cave in the previous entry, I'd be kicking her all the way into the scorching sunlight. In order to gather enough visiblity in the present to write I must turn my back to the mouth of this alcove, and the heat of the magma makes me feel like I'm backing into a fire. If only we could have known this kind of thing was waiting for us before leaving the cozy warmth of our little cave. 

These volcanic caverns have stretched on quite a ways now, and by no means did we arrive here in a natural way. This isn't actually the first drastic change of scenery we've encountered today. This tower has sent us all across the world in the matter of a few steps fairly frequently, and I have doubts that trend will cease anytime soon. These tunnels in particular seem similar structurally to the Fire Island Volcano which rests on the equator of the Sea of Wonders, but seconds of transition prior to it was a lush forest like those commonly found in the Water Continent. 

Despite the heat of the magma we may even catch a wink of sleep after all. It took about five hours of half-wakeful turning for us to determine that the effort was hopeless. As to not waste any more of our precious time laying motionless we gathered our things and made for the cliff where the strange stairwell was located. Aesthetically it was the same as the path by which we entered the tower in the first place, and just the same we were forced to move forward into an entirely drastic change in scenery. What once was hot sands and thirsty plants became rich soft soil and layer upon layer of dense foliage. 

Our immediate relief was how cool the air had become compared to just several moments ago. Additionally coming with the new-found humidity was a fresh surfeit of conditions to adhere. We would find our existence far easier traversing such a lively cradle than having a desert wear our supplies thin. The pokemon illusions we would encounter understandably were becoming of the environment they normally thrived within, meaning we would find an abundance of water and grass types about every corner. Mainly this meant a more equal spread of exchanges for both Servine and Braixen. All this while the sun above still remained glued to it's pre-noon position. 

The reassuring dampness which infested the biome and the type advantages alike allowed Braixen in particular to apply her specialties to greater effect. It's frightening the vastness of the area she can coat with fire despite conserving energy for the long haul, not even the canopy above was safe from the grasping swathe of flames she willed. All this wide-reaching destructive potential, and all while having a grass type partner. There must be an extreme tenderness to her aim as to avoid damaging Servine or starting unwarranted fires. 

###### 

Duly so I keep a good distance from the fighting regardless of how much trust Servine constantly expresses. Even far from any active combat I'll still end up finding trouble approaching in the worst of places. A few times now I've been able to call out ambushes before they grow to fruition, yet I've also been the unknowing subject of several more which nearly resulted in some nasty injuries. Even as a scholar I'm not entirely unversed in the art of combat, but the creatures which inhabit this tower are some of a fierce kind. At the very least it was I who suffered the most attacks from behind, being a species of pokemon who battles turned around anyway has it's benefits. 

Besides the skirmishes with the wildlife this forest was indeed particularly bountiful to our efforts. Very little in the way of emeras, but instead a great excess of edibles and drinking water. From several streams we were able to bathe as well as drink and top up our canteens, the latter being truly beneficial considering where we've ended up as of current. What little emeras we did get were nonetheless crucial to our efforts to maintain our pace. Braixen got her paws on one such incredible gem to assist in sustaining her abilities already in addition to the Mist Looplet's conservation. 

Once through the thickest of it we had to manage finding an inconspicuous stairway that could have been situated anywhere. It's still surprising how well the stone bricks fit into these places, like they always belonged to begin with. Finally through a shadowy passage between trees did we find the exit and do a quick run-over to be entirely certain no more could be gained from staying. With high rations and spirits, we pressed onward to ascend higher. 

Since that point it's been quite figuratively and near literally a walk through hell. This volcanic area gave us an incredible initial shock, but what really causes a struggle is it's ability to brutally cut the efficiency of our team composition. Braixen is the only one of us who can really stand up to a large portion of the illusions, let alone get around the fiery environment without inhibition. And even then her psychic potential is limited enough that most exchanges are pillars of fire being tossed back and forth with abandon while Servine and I attempt to survive it all. 

Besides the indigenous creatures and brutal encounters this ecosystem is perilous enough on it's own to stay wary. The very presence of the magma is enough to emit dangerous amounts of heat for several meters, and more often than not harmful fumes would escape and leave us backtracking even further until the coast was clear. On top of it all the igneous rock in it's dark colouring absorbed a great portion of our visible light, forcing us to stay relatively close to Braixen just to see our feet and pray a foe didn't strike first. 

###### 

The speed at which we've been traveling is appalling as you could imagine. There's nothing of worth down here to scavenge and not enough light to even make the attempt. Not that any of us in the back would even be able to try, Braixen was still the only one who could traverse at a decent rate. This meticulous crawl we've come to coupled with the lack of sleep last night really started to grind us down into an unsafe exhaustion. Where we rest now is actually a little alcove which I spotted which seemed defensible enough to hunker down in. 

Right now I'm the only one which hasn't already collapsed into a corner and went out like a light. The partners are curled up a good ways from where I sit, down low away from the infernal radiation which is burning my back. The way their motions together were today and how they are now; it's unrelated but perhaps one day I might hope to stumble upon a bond with someone quite as close. Ramblings aside, it would be wise to soon follow suit in the lull and find a greater sleep than before. 

As for the dungeon itself, I have a theory that the trials which have been presented to us are based on these drastic scene changes that happen between stairs. So far I've only been able to discern that type disadvantages and endurance are playing factors in the climb, there's nowhere yet that the initial engraving at the entrance of the tower has any relevance. That's not to say that it will never, it's just that the absolving of sins doesn't really compare exactly to braving a volcano's innards or treading hot desert sands. Later on we'll probably have to take on more environments which may eventually pay homage to every species of pokemon. 

I should really stop running through precious pages and procrastinating. My eyelids will keep growing heavier and my hand lighter. Tomorrow, a new day. 

 

 

 

 

###### 

Entry 4, 34 hours 16 minutes elapsed 

I've just finished orchestrating the balancing a hundred pounds of equipment and three pokemon in the branches of the least frail looking tree around where the fall is into a seemingly venomous and deep area of swamp. To be honest, it kind of made me wish for a volcano to make a bed in. I think we've finally found at least a manageable position to rest in, though I'm not looking forward to the process of putting this journal away. It was hard enough retrieving it while the bag was still in my hands and not in a precarious fork of branches. 

Picking up where I last left off, we did manage to catch a few hours of undisturbed sleep while inside the magma caverns. To be fair it wasn't all too tranquil once we were all under. Due to inhaling fumes, exhaustion, or otherwise coincidence, we all equally managed to have some rather disturbing dreams. From the sound of it nobody really had a nightmare or anything to force us a cold sweat, just a typical pinch of mildly unnerving. Not to be paranoid but at this point I wouldn't put it past this place to have that kind of effect intentionally. 

We easily shook it all off once we started moving again, and as it turned out the exit hadn't been all that far away from where we made camp. Surprisingly the blackened nature of the rocks allowed us to spot the stairs from a good distance away. The initial relief of not having to trudge through such a precarious and slow cave system further was more palpable than the heat waves caused by the fire vents surrounding it. Of course the tower couldn't do with having us be comfortable for too long, and it what could be more clashing than sending us from a volcano right into an oceanic cavern? 

God it felt like I was never going to be dry again after that zone. Saltwater was constantly at least up to my ankles, but wasn't shy to venture nearly to my chest and threaten all our supplies. The best I could do was keep everything as high as possible in my jaw, especially so to keep my notes dry. That's not to say that everyone else was well-accustomed to aquatic movement, understandably Braixen had the easiest time getting about but the worst ache from being exposed to an opposing element for so long. Servine's body type forced him to take to a slithering swim half the time and really wore down on his stamina faster than he would have liked. Even with all this surrounding us there still wasn't a single drop to drink. 

Though all of that is still just a minor inconvenience in comparison to how dangerous it could have been if we didn't always have our eyes to the ground. Scattered all about the distorted ground were darker pits which lead directly into incredibly deep submerged caverns, where most of our foes emerged from. At one point an ambush was staged against our back line while we strafed one such pit, disaster had struck in just an instant. From beneath the surface emerged a clever Octillery who didn't hesitate to begin launching their attack. Defenseless with my jaws preoccupied, I made the decision to turn heel and flee while there was still milliseconds left to act. Braixen had twisted to retaliate but underestimated the speed at which the Octillery would strike. By the time Servine swam over to dispatch the pokemon Braixen had already suffered a terribly powerful Hydro Pump straight into the center of her mass. One Reviver Seed utilized to prevent debilitating injury.

###### 

From then on we took a far wider berth around any suspicious dark areas, Servine took special care to check their contents by launching Energy Balls. It's a terrible chill whenever one pierces into the water's surface and takes nearly twenty seconds to reply with a dull resonating explosion somewhere distant. Soon after he offered one of his five Reviver Seeds to Braixen just to make sure she was absolutely safe from then on, she declined and said it wouldn't happen again. She furthered her claim by flipping the Stayaway Wand she kept in her tail through her fingers, just in case such an emergency were to rise again. 

Rightfully so we were all extremely thankful when the stairs had finally come into view. Our nerves were absolutely wracked from the unpredictable nature those caves had, and being soaked for hours was hardly an enjoyable experience. We spent a good amount of time in that stairway just getting dry for the next area to come. It was actually that stop which allowed me to catch something extremely interesting written on the wall in ancient dialect. Due to it being handwritten rather than engraved text it took a little while longer to decipher, but we still managed to read what they were trying to say. I'll copy the translated version from my notes now once I figure out how to reach over without knocking everything out of the tree. 


> "The frosted scarps of past lay my slain ally. 

> Those who have dared this far, know the name of Flygon,

> he who bravely gave their life to deliver me from certain demise against the hallucinations.

> May his soul rest easier in these hallowed planes than his mind in life."


Finally, a sign of another pilgrim who resolved to make the same trek as we have. It seemed we had stumbled upon a grave marker created by a comrade for their fallen member, but there's far more to pick from this than just that. The written characters consisted of no curves and sharp lines, such a thing was somewhat familiar then but quite obvious in hindsight. The exact same structure is used by a species of pokemon to slash markings into the boundaries of their territory. It's not too far a leap to deduct that a Weavile was the one to have created the message in the first place.

###### 

As for the message itself, there lay a whole slew of observations. The most interesting being the setting which is described in the first line, where the Weavile describes an area "frosted scarps". We've yet to come across any environment which could compare to such a description, and even if that were incorrect the stairwell which possessed the marker was separating a plains biome and an oceanic one. If I assumed this finding to still be plausible then either there were multiple paths to take through each layer of the tower or it was an entity which changed sporadically with time. It's also important to note the inner dialogue that can be denoted from the text, such as the fourth line's implication that the Flygon was troubled, or the referring to the illusions as hallucinations on the third. 

At the time of the discovery I just didn't have the same time to mull over all these meanings as I do now. That and I was still a little too damp to be handling much paper. With the message recorded proper we decided to press on as to not become distracted and end up the same as the unfortunate Flygon. Up the rest of the stairs we ascended toward the distant and friendly glow of sunlight, something we hadn't seen in quite a few hours now. As I stated previously this next place we would arrive in was a blooming colorful plain. 

The meadow was certainly a sight for sore eyes, pleasing to perhaps even the wanderer who hasn't just trudged through miles of underground fire and water to get there. As far as the horizon you could see an endless bed of flowers reaching a vibrancy which rivaled the sun above (which remained in it's 11 o'clock position as usual). It was the kind of place I'd consider as a retreat during vacation time, the air smelling so sweet of nectar that one could forget what the scent of freshness was. A huge picnic would have been called for if we weren't in a mysterious tower attempting to kill us with false renditions of pokemon and deadly environments. 

Our pleasant stroll very quickly ended when we discovered what lurked within such unassuming thick fields. We were befallen suddenly with an endless surge of enraged bug types who had made the meadow their home. I suppose the trade-off for having a harmless zone was making the indigenous species absolutely ferocious and unyielding. If before we were up to our ankles in saltwater then now it was insects taking place of liquid. 

The supplies returned to my arms and shoulder as now there was no way I could remain defenseless in such an onslaught. My efforts to assist in quelling the bug types was nearly double what I've done so far in terms of fighting. It was somewhat liberating to actually play a part in some of the battles and not feel like a drain on resources. Servine and I pushed through the tide to the best of our abilities, though nothing we could do would ever match the zealous fury demonstrated by Braixen in this kind of situation. She specialized in wide-spread destruction after all, and there was no better time than now to unleash wave after wave of rolling flames upon the frail illusions that swarmed us.

###### 

In one fit of power she actually managed to blacken at least thirty square meters of grassland in a forward arc to obliterate a nasty oncoming hive. Through sheer dispositioning I managed to nearly get caught by a few of these torrents and barely lunged away without being singed, Servine had always been synchronized and quick enough to dodge between them with little effort at all. Eventually even with all the reinforcing factors Braixen began to visibly express the toll of such power in her panting and blasts. We were all tired, but there was no hope of respite in these fields. At best there would be a segment of five minutes where we weren't taking on several pokemon at a time. 

Acceptably enough the area was at least lush enough to give a small bolster to our water supply and rations. The last two were far too inhospitable and forced us to run through our entire canteens at a dangerous pace. I'd trade a small pond of fresh water and several angry bug types over several metric tons of ominous and empty ocean any day. 

It wasn't too long ago from now that we found the exit to that accursed meadow. There was actually no effort put into scouting out this swamp at all, as soon as we arrived there was a unanimous agreement to set up camp and rest. This tree seemed sturdy enough to hold all of us while still tall enough to keep height over the unknown dangers below, so it was immediately decided we would climb it and settle down. From where we are now it's probably not even fifty yards from the stairs we emerged from. I did take extra time to check anywhere along the walls for more writing. 

Servine used his vines to tie himself and Braixen to a branch adjacent of mine and very willingly adhered themselves to the rough bark just for a wink of sleep. It was a hard and delicate enough job to secure all our supplies up with us, finding a comfortable position was an entirely different story that they couldn't be bothered to read. The dexterity required to form legible characters on this paper is actually getting quite painful, and right now I might just mistake the sharp wooden exterior for a pillow as well. 

Tomorrow we will more officially tackle this swamp. That is, if it doesn't start raining on us first. This is the first time there have been enough clouds in the sky that the sun is entirely obscured for a grey and dark atmosphere. Since there's no wind nothing is really moving up there, so perhaps that means weather conditions are prohibited as well? Whatever, the bag can handle a little rain over being completely submerged in water. Now should not be for idle worry more so as it should be for rest.

###### 

Entry 5, 50 hours 52 minutes elapsed 

Pardon me if my penmanship enters a slightly illegible territory during this entry, at the moment it's too cold to feel my fingers. As of current we're all packed together in a jagged crevice to take shelter from a particularly vicious frozen mountain. Judging from the thin air and heavy breathing we're supposedly at quite the altitude, yet looking down slopes only permits the view of a mist too thick to glance through. I shudder to think what would happen if someone slipped and fell into the unknown. 

To begin my recounting of our journey today, I may start by saying that it did most certainly start raining on us during our last recess. We were forced to start moving on several hours prior to when we perhaps would have liked. Though the shower did rouse us from a more intense variety of those disturbing dreams, so I can't be entirely pessimistic on the matter. And besides, a little sleep is better than none at all in this place. It does make me wonder if the mythical being Darkrai might be associated to the tower in any way. 

While rainy and generally miserable, the swamp itself didn't provide too much of a harrowing experience. Actually, the biomes of recent have been quite exhilarating as I've been the subject of a few key points in the front lines. This swamp in particular had my playing a strong role due to the general poison type population having no effect against me. It's a great feeling to be more than a waste of rations. As important as surveying and recording this tower is, taking notes and carrying equipment isn't all too exciting when you're traveling with two Grandmaster rank explorers. 

Earlier on in the swamp I had found more evidence to support that the tower is changing while we're inside, I forgot to mention. The stairs by which we ascended into this area from were nowhere to be seen after we had awoken. On the mossy wall where I am certain we came was just sheer wet stone. No trick of the eye, no trace remaining that there had ever been anything else present. Thinking back at the desert area it must have been sheer luck that our exit didn't move on us before we gave up on trying to sleep. At this point I still can't accurately predict where the stairs will be located, the order of which areas appear, or anything else involving the message at the entrance. Maybe the latter bit was just a concept of perseverance, maybe the dreams had something to do with it? 

Anyway, it turns out I'm still not as in-shape as the partners were, and by the time we managed to arrive at the exit I was more than ready to take my place of burden back. The novelty had run out with my breath while poison types battered against me in any way they could. Bearing fresh bruises and tired muscles I checked over the stairway and found nothing before we made our way to the next zone.

###### 

What came next would easily rival the natural beauty we found in the meadows of yesterday before every insect ever known swarmed upon us. Another underground scene, but the dark igneous rock here was cooled nearly to a freezing point. Lining the walls and ceiling above were dozens of gems which radiated a rainbow of colors that illuminated our way brilliantly. We seemed to have stumbled upon an old volcanic highway which had already hardened and crystallized long ago. It's the closest thing to stars that we've seen for days. 

Through the countless rock types that fronted us we managed to come across several motherlodes of naturally growing emeras, making these tunnels the most abundant source we've found yet. Each and every slot of our looplets are filled now with a vital piece to our expedition. Plenty of utility and defensive options were considered and decided upon throughout the caverns, at times fortune would smile down and give us plenty of extremely powerful emeras which could change the tides of our adventure. For example, we found just enough Type Bulldozers to spread evenly among us, and now each of our abilities have the supernatural strength to pierce whatever disadvantage comes our way. Mainly though that just meant Braixen would have no further trouble incinerating tougher environments. 

That wasn't even the most important emera which we found in there to augment Braixen's impact, either. Servine had a keen enough eye to spot a green glitter beneath an ashen collapse, an emera which had a similar yet more mild effect to his own Satiated Looplet. Now her metabolism is reinforced in such a way that she barely needs to eat half of what she did previously, meaning seventy percent of the consumption rate is just me alone. To top it all off we found a second of the energy saving emera to ensure she was basically self-sufficient when it comes to using the most draining of techniques. 

Now the only worry he had to deal with was water, but it seemed that wasn't too rare a commodity in these strange planes of existence. We found a small dripping spring inside of the crystal caves which we utilized for just a while to wash up a bit and refill our canteens. It only tastes a little of minerals, but to be honest I kind of like it. I'm not sure about the others but in these kinds of situations anything will have to do. 

A lot of good that water is doing frozen to the insides of the plastic anyway. This mountain has been far less aesthetically pleasing as it is forgiving, Servine is just about rigid with how cold he is. Braixen's main focus has been simply protecting his sluggish movements and making sure he's able to move at all in this deep snow. It's another case of the setting being more of an issue than it's inhabitants, but that's not to write off how much trouble an intentional avalanche would cause.

###### 

Another thing about this current area, it has a particularly harsh wind current blasting through it at all times. I don't believe it's anything natural, rather I believe the pokemon simulated here are able to summon a blizzard just with their presence alone. In conjunction with each other they've made an absolutely horrid kind of chilling gust that we've just barely found a decent shelter from. It's hardly an ideal little hole to prevent the sub-zero temperatures from slinking in and numbing my entire body. 

Braixen is doing her best to keep us all from contracting hypothermia, but that just entails us all huddling together while she attempts to conjure a slow burning radiation. Even such a simple and light task has been made extremely difficult for her maintain due the the constant nagging cold ebbing away at her power. The interlude we're taking now is only out of sheer necessity and fatigue. Realistically we'll get moving again soon lest we freeze to death in a place nobody would think to search. 

Writing has done good work in distracting me, but lingering any longer would practically be suicide. We've at least recovered enough color in our extremities to feel safe taking to the deep snow again. It's time to put away the pen and get to freezing to death in a more dignified fashion, I feel. Here's to the next journal entry being made at all. 

 

 

 

 

 

###### 

Entry 6, 59 hours 48 minutes elapsed 

I've still all my limbs and fingers, my hunger has been mostly quenched, and I'm not dead. It's been nearly exactly a day since we've managed to find a proper place to rest and I'm experiencing some intense resentment at my duties as of current. It's best that I continue to make my entries as soon as camp is established, but what I wouldn't give for a wink of sleep to the contrary. Alas, it's both my pleasure and my orders to shed some light on these otherworldly halls regardless of how heavy my head is. Even if it means I must brave staying awake just a little while longer. 

As could be easily inferred by the very existence of this text, we survived that squalid glacial range decently enough. It took a while for us to regain any feeling but we nonetheless emerged only a few Reviver Seeds poorer. Now we've managed to really make a respectable little respite, this camp we even had fitted with beds of moss and an honest campfire. I actually took seat much farther away on the cold ground just so I wouldn't nod off in the middle of making this entry. 

The only good thing to come of that mountain was at it's very end. While we slowly regained our composure and shook the sticking snow from ourselves in the stairwell, my eyes caught another instance of jagged carvings into the stone. It wasn't for another few minutes before I was even mentally prepared to translate the message. Once my still frozen fingers and mind took to a piece of paper we began to record it and decipher the meaning. 


> "Our nightmares are getting worse, we can hardly stand them anymore.

> The past is almost as vicious as these terrible trials.

> Surely the true ones will begin soon."


The handwriting is entirely similar to the Weavile from earlier, and there's no reason to believe it wasn't them. Although nobody enjoyed quite what they had to say, especially so due to the eerie parallel with our own journey. From this we can infer that the disturbing dreams we keep having are an intended effect caused by the tower. What their meaning is still eludes me, but we might expect some rather vivid terrors later on. The message may very well come from a farther part of their ascent in planes higher than we are now.

###### 

What catches the eye past our imminent suffering is most definitely the last line. The Weavile refers to what is likely the stages of the tower as trials, then states that they anticipate the "true trials" to come shortly. Did they have a prior knowledge of Destiny Tower before initially entering? If so, what were these trials and how did they relate to the nightmares we've been having? If these pokemon could know something like this and wrote in the ancient dialect, what era did they exactly come from? Did the Weavile have a party of more than just them and the Flygon, or was this note created shortly before the death of his comrade? Agh, several zones later and I still don't have any clue. 

Anyways, after recording the marking rather sluggishly we moved onward to the next environment. We arrived at a deep and grasping lagoon which stretched on farther than any kind I've ever been to. I believe there was such a similar place on the more northern coasts of the Grass Continent, but there's not enough significance in the place itself that I would have ever needed to travel there. With how pleasant our experience was I don't really plan on changing my mind anytime soon. 

At least the emeras we obtained in the crystalline cave ensured that the absolute worst things we encountered was rain and irritatingly deep mud. Though it turns out that sometimes that deep mud was a sinkhole, a thousand thanks to Servine for his vigilance (and for using his vines like a rope). Braixen was able to unleash her full potential on what would otherwise be an area that put her at a disposition. Not even the water types which rose from the murk could stand in our way against waves of flame nearly blue with intensity. 

Our worst problem ended up being the Stunfisk which lurked motionless until just the second we put our feet down. They weren't finicky with who they shocked, and neither did they mind existing anywhere and everywhere we decided to step. I may as well have been a battery with how much electricity ran through me in just the few hours we spent gazing at heightened sections of land for the semblance of a passageway. There wasn't anything further that made this lagoon any special, just the same jolts and sinkholes until eventually we did find our exit, and not even that had anything particular about it. 

We were barely running on fumes by that point, but we figured to keep moving as long as we had that at all. Our drive was partly powered just by the will to find a good place to make camp. As it turned out, the time after was most definitely NOT suitable for any kind of rest. The final step of the stairs would nearly greet us with a twenty yard drop right off the bat. This would come to be the running theme of the last environment we had to trudge through to get here.

###### 

The series of cliffs was far more severe and steep then the frozen mountain ever was, seemingly taking every available opportunity to suddenly drop off. We would very quickly come to know that flying types were the dominant species to rule over the range. They nested everywhere and constantly flew overhead, occasionally attempting to pick a fight with us until they were shot out of the sky. Soon after our entrance we turned a sharp corner and just as quickly became disheartened. For the first time we had a nearly perfect view of what looked like the entire area, a ring of mountains miles across with a desolate valley in the center a few hundred feet down. 

While resplendent, the view brought with it a vast sense of dread that we may not be able to find the door. Surely we'd run out of supplies and starve before we could cover enough inches of this place to equal a fraction of what it truly was. While the dismay set in our lungs continued to burn of exhaustion and altitude. We had no choice but to continue creeping along the crumbling ledges with the vague hopes every stairway stayed in close proximity with the other. 

And so creep we did, wishing constantly instead for the violent sting of a disturbed Stunfisk beneath our feet. At the very least that would imply we had room to put a step down in the first place. In places our foothold would be so minimal that standing up naturally was an impossible task. With so much area to cover, we could barely afford to move so methodically as to not fall to our deaths. I think I've developed a fear of heights from the time we spent scaling treacherous slopes. 

Or perhaps I got that mostly from the nasty fall I almost took a few hours in. We were taking on a terribly unforgiving ledge when a spell of dizziness came over me at the worst possible time. In the middle of a step I lost my balance and slipped forward without any remaining control. Ironically instead of attempting to find some ground or catch myself I made an attempt to throw everything I was carrying to safety. If Servine hadn't have been so quick with his vines I'd be laying broken some jagged rocks at the bottom of a chasm. Reviver Seeds do well to keep a heart beating, not so much when every bone in your body has splintered and started piercing your soft tissue. 

Perhaps in the few milliseconds I had to process my end I decided to throw my notes and journal as if to carry on some final legacy. Maybe those two would make it the rest of the way without me and my research of this place would be revolutionary enough to go down in history? If it weren't for them I'd have probably met my demise a long time ago trying to make it through the tower, and that's not counting those very literal terms associated with the Dark Matter incident. I'm just an archaeologist, they saved the world and everyone inhabiting it from a spiteful accumulated consciousness. It's a steep claim to compare my clumsiness to that of the entire world being thrown into the sun.

###### 

By the time we managed to find the stairs everyone had been reduced to speechless lumbering husks. Though at the time we became extremely thankful lumbering husks, but tired nonetheless. From what I gather it seems very unlikely that the entrance and exit of a zone end up being too far apart, by all means we may have had to walk all the way around to the other side of the canyon. Perhaps we just experienced an incredible feat of fortune that saved our lives. Perhaps the tower itself is egging us on, manipulating the locations of transitions so that we can still progress? It's not as if Servine and Braixen haven't taken on much larger dungeons than that range and returned intact. 

I believe the stairway held nothing special. I may or may not have been entirely lucid enough to make sure. All the fumes which we've been running on for so long finally ran out, although I guess not entirely since I'm conscious enough to make this journal. By the time we arrived in this cave system there wasn't much hope I'd get around to doing this without passing out first. I suppose this is the part to be thankful for all those skipped nights spent working, though doing field work in this state is an atrocious affair. Luckily these two are far more experienced than me in getting their bearings while outright knackered. 

What I can elaborate on a little is what kind of cave system this is despite not having been here for long. There have been several before, but this one seems to be either in an elevated section of land or extremely near to the surface. Occasionally on the ceiling there will be a moderately-sized hole borne of erosion which allows natural sunlight in and generally illuminates the immediate area. For the pokemon species here it's just a general mix of rock types and a few water and grass. I've been getting a serious vibe of northern Water Continent and it's rain forests. 

A lot of algae and moss grow on the inner walls and feed off the dampness offered by the skylights and possibly ground water. We (read: mostly Braixen and Servine) gathered up some of the drier instances and gathered them high up onto a large boulder with a flat surface. From there beds were assembled and most of the dead moss was used to start a mediocre fire, though that's running a little thin now. I should really wrap this up and put it away. 

Yeah, I'll just do that. The partners are stirring quite heavily in their sleep but I think I'll manage the nightmares for a little while just to earn some energy back. Their furrowed brows aren't giving me any high spirits, though. If there's anything more noteworthy about this place I'll get around to it when I hopefully have a clear head the next time I crack this journal out.

###### 

Entry 7, 76 hours 09 minutes elapsed 

Oho, the plot has thickened so considerably from where I last left off. There's so much more than ever to wonder about this place, let alone the past in general. I'd venture as far to say that we know even less now than we did standing outside of it's walls. While I spin my pen we currently sit inside an absolutely pristine series of architecture which has incredible similarities to the ancient temples found on the Grass and Sand Continents. What could be seen in those absolutely pales in comparison to the goldmine of historical and anthropological data on just one of these walls. 

I've been running through paper like a fire trying to copy down and make sense of all these runes. There are glyphs so old that not even Braixen can naturally translate them, do you know how exciting that is? This very well could be the first language ever conceived, perhaps the some of the first instances of recorded history ever. Even though we've stopped to make camp now our progress had already been drastically slowed from my constant distraction. Goodness, it's like I'm a kid lost in a candy store. We're supposed to get what little sleep we can in this short time but I still haven't stopped fluttering about between my notes and just the illustrations in this very room. 

And what's painted and carved into the walls isn't everything that intensifies my immense sense of discovery. Pokemon like Sigilyph and Claydol roam through these halls and further cement several more mysterious concepts in the peripherals of my memory, not to mention the forefront of so many more pages. Even more miraculously and not too long ago we had a sighting of a Mew drifting lazily by over a great distance away. I didn't even know such a legendary pokemon could appear being represented by the illusions of this tower, and it whispers miles of the ancient civilization to boot. Braixen and Servine were both overcame with a grasping apprehension at the sight as well. Was it a product of their own thoughts, considering the sensitive subject of Braixen's heritage, or was it something of Destiny Tower manipulating us? The two would refuse to speak about it any further. 

It's not too insane a claim to assume that there are some vast psychic powers soaking into the isolated atmosphere of these halls. Maybe it had something to do the nightmares they've been having? Oh, to use this as a transition to get back on track, the dreams we suffered through at our last camp were downright horrendous. In the end our minds were far from as rested as our bodies were. Deep-seeded personal fears and regrets were very vibrantly and colorfully reflected upon the whole way, making a broken morning of cold sweat not due to the humidity. Perhaps part of why I'm still out and about is the trepidation to return to such a slumber.

###### 

I'm starting to get the impression that the whole "absolution of our sins" aspect of this place might have something to do with the constant barrage of nightmares. The Weavile's message is starting to make a lot more sense sans the last line, which I am becoming increasingly more worried about. If there honestly is a trial which surpasses the ones we've encountered so far and involves these dreams, I'm not so certain I'd like to partake in it. In fact, the appearance of a place like this mounts just a little more foreboding on my shoulders about the whole thing. At the very least some of the artificial water systems built here provided for our supplies and thirst. 

The rest of the lush cave system went over without much fault. Mostly we were just happy to have a fresh day ahead of us and freedom from the last fit of nocturnal torment. Several times we ended up discovering openings which lead into the outside regions, which had enough coniferous vegetation to confirm my previous theory that we were in a place resembling the Water Continent. Thankfully we decided to fully explore all of the system before attempting to extend our search outside, as the stairs forward were located in a deeper chamber devoid of light not too far from one such exit. It's kind of confusing some areas are so demanding in their difficulty while others are more akin to a pleasant wandering about. Though it's an interesting point to wonder if the layers of this tower can actually experience erosion like in that cave, or if it was just designed to look that way. 

The transitional point in between now and then was a series of jagged foothills and underground passes made mostly of granite. All throughout the path was the constant presence of severe magnetic disturbance that provided residence of many an aggressive electric and steel type. This kind of environment was crucial for some of the species to thrive, and I am most certainly not one of those native species. Due to my natural body composition and typing the electromagnetic fields ravaged my internal equilibrium and sense of direction. At times the waves would actually become repulsive and I would become too light to keep walking naturally, sometimes leaving the ground entirely. 

As you could imagine the feeling of such a loss of control was not an enjoyable one to experience for several hours straight. In fact, nearly all of the hardship we faced in that area could easily have the blame pointed towards me. If the tower were actively changing to test our strengths and undermine our weaknesses, this place would have been my personal foil. I would have a decent enough time fending off the illusions if only I had any reliable motor control. Braixen assured me it was no trouble at all and I shouldn't worry, yet the whole time I had to be guided about just so that progress would continue to be made. 

###### 

In my incapacity I still managed to find a significant discovery in the walls of a cave. More sharp carvings which seemed like they could have been from the Weavile, but unfortunately these seemed to experience a weathering of sorts. Whatever message they wrote in their stay on this level was now illegible and lost to time. Still interesting to imagine how erosion works in these isolated instances. This also would mean that the stairways were entirely exempt of natural degradation, though that didn't seem all too difficult to configure considering the powers already at work. It's a shame we weren't able to decipher anything the markings said anyway. 

We moved on from there, if a little slower than usual. Even while being pulled around I couldn't quite shrug off the intense nausea that comes with being susceptible to magnetic fields. The satisfaction that washed over me as we departed from that place doesn't compare to the satisfaction I felt when my senses cleared up and I realized exactly where we ended up. I'm actually still a little giddy about this temple as well, it truthfully feels like I've traveled backwards in time, which might not be too far off the mark. There so much text and so many illustrations to decipher that I'm probably going to write an entire book on just this section of the tower alone. 

Ah. It's impossible to tell for anyone reading this, but it's been a few minutes since the last sentence. There was a strange noise echoing somewhere outside the room and I left to check up on it. No one else seemed to hear it either, both the partners are up to shirk on what terrible little sleep we will get. I could have sworn a familiar voice rang out down the hall, could it have been an illusion? Eh, it's probable that the tower's finally getting to work instilling paranoia into our exhaustion. 

Not as if it would need to while we were awake. The second our eyes shut and our minds close shop, the dreams will do that job just fine. Hopefully we've made it far enough through the dungeon that we might make the rest of the way without having to deal with another camp. I'm going to mull over some of the temple notes for a few minutes more before heading off. Braixen and Servine will most likely clutch each other to ward off at least some of the anxiousness, but I get the feeling that's just going to make it worse. Here's to hoping we make it out of here in one piece so that I can pick apart the meanings of these walls at the Society. 

 

 

 

###### 

Entry 8, 90 hours 21 minutes elapsed 

As high as spirits were when we started, and as significant that temple layer was to the historical richness of this expedition, things are starting to seem a little grim. If we had any overconfidence in this undertaking before this began, then by all means, it had been snuffed out proper along with any extinguished bravado. It's more than just an average bout of fatigue that's weighing down on us now. 

This day started exactly as you would have expected, with four or five hours of nightmares and an extreme urge to continue moving despite weighted eyelids. While our alertness is of absolute importance in these dangerous environments, it might do more harm than good to watch subconsciously as ourselves and our loved ones are killed and tortured. In the end we decided to trade a little physical prowess for some mental fortitude and called it a draw. Ever since we awoke Braixen and Servine have been sticking abnormally close to each other, which is saying a lot since they stuck together like a puzzle. 

No doubt that behavior stems from the torment they've experienced during their slumber. The whispers they exchanged were definitely in discussion of suffering they saw the other undergo. I felt a little concerned for their emotional well-being at the time, that premonition coming to fruition later on in the day. That's actually why we've had to stop earlier than anyone would have liked, as well as a rather serious injury that occured a while ago which would've proven more dangerous if we continued. Though I must admit that this place has been doing a great job at shaking me down as well. Whatever seeds this place sew early on were extremely well-fertilized and nourished by the present. 

Our departure of the temple was one still leaning on tired eyes and intrepid legs. I had gathered as much data as I could before seeing repeat illustrations and finally decided it was time to move on. There wasn't any time to study them, but frankly I was glad to just be moving again after the poor excuse for a rest. Any minute our feet weren't shuffling on was another the tower would attempt to stick psychological hooks into our backs and pull. There's a tiny spark of curiosity still aflame inside me that's interested in how much more stress this place is willing to inflict. 

The next area was one of hardened sandstone and thousands of natural traps. A deep Sand Continental cave system, and with it a structural integrity designed to slit the throats of any an impetuous adventurer. If you don't find yourself stepping onto a nearly invisible section of quicksand, surely the walls and ceiling are ready to crumble and crush you or create an impassable obstacle. To the pokemon which inhabited such a place, such treacherous tunnels proved nothing more than a minor inconvenience to their digging potential. All it would take to put us in dire straits was a mild Earthquake technique. Of all these fatal situations, and everything that could have possibly gone wrong or incapacitated us, the absolute worst event which nearly ended our lives was the just a ditto. 

###### 

It had camouflaged itself amongst a gathering of stones so that we wouldn't be able to detect it until it was already too late. By the time anyone had noticed we were under attack it had already taken the image of Braixen, then it would charge to collide with her and complete it's transformation. With enough genetic information gathered from the physical contact it would take just seconds to fully steal her seemingly boundless power. 

In the severity of the moment I knew already to reach for a Reviver Seed before it was too late, it wasn't unknown just how much she was capable of. If these pages weren't secured underneath three layers of custom-made Ariados silk I'm afraid of what might have happened to all my data. Unfortunately, the rest of me wasn't so protected to be underneath such strong materials when the inevitable happened. The very sands beneath our feet would be scorched from the resulting battle, and even with all the recuperation offered from a Reviver Seed I still maintain several rather irritating first degree burns. That's not much to fuss about in comparison to the injury Braixen sustained. 

Before the ditto was able to release a deluge of flames Servine made an attempt using his vines to dispatch it with a well-aimed Leaf Blade. When it collided with Braixen to gain the rest of the information it needed, the alternative reason became apparent to confuse his attacks and cause friendly fire, ultimately succeeding when Braixen suffered a gash to her leg which would ultimately require immediate attention. Still she would be able to subdue it only after a devastating Heat Wave that tore into everyone else. 

With any such partnership as those two possess, accidents like this were bound to happen. Their line of work was so riddled with danger and injury that it was practically the job description. I've seen these two spar and smash the other through drywall (much to Ampharos' chagrin), then they'd get up and laugh as if the blows were just simple roughhousing. The wound on Braixen's leg wasn't even all that threatening in terms of progress and was merely something to be attended to before infection and blood loss set in. These made it all the more surprising when Servine, usually the coolest of us all, suddenly broke down into tears and clutched her tightly while chanting desperate apologies. 

It would come down to me to apply the bandages and dress her injury as Braixen attempted to calm his emotional collapse. He was the first of us to be partially broken by the tower, nothing a brief while and some emotional glue couldn't fix but still. Braixen's vast influence on him no doubt was addressed by the nightmares, harming her even an insignificant and forgiven amount must have spread a few cracks in his psyche that were created for just such a purpose. It would take us the better part of fifteen minutes before he recovered enough of his composure to continue moving until we reached the stairs. 

###### 

The last section of our journey today would be one we were previously familiar with from the words of a certain remorseful Weavile. Among the marble cliffs and patchy hills of this area was a deep chill that covered the ground with a slippery frost, matching up quite well with the description of "frosted scarps". This place is patron to many a fighting type illusion, who can be seen as far as possible scaling the steep white walls without fault or struggle. It's no wonder why the Weavile would have suffered in a place with so many specimens of the type which undermines the species the most. Hopefully nobody would have to play the role of Flygon anytime soon. 

We would quickly come across the overarching concept here that no other zone had quite the emphasis on, climbing. Particularly climbing up and down sheer faces where the holds were slippery with cold and the pokemon threw stones at us if they noticed our presence. I loaded the whole burden on my back into my jaw and utilized my small limbs to the best of their abilities, Servine used his vines to make quick work of the distance and continued to assist Braixen in her labored ascent, who still had limited use of a leg. It very quickly became apparent that we weren't going to make it far while she sustained that injury. Not that she wouldn't persevere through the pain, but it might especially get worse if she overexerts. 

Our camp is probably high enough that the fighting types will give us passing. Everyone has been far too quiet, as in nobody has really said a word since the incident a few hours ago. I'm certain Braixen has been whispering nearly silently comforts to him, but Servine hasn't made much in the way of conversation other than the apologies. The pressure that's mounting beneath us is enough to cause far more consequential mistakes than minor friendly fire, out here where the demand for utmost efficiency is at it's maximum. Although we've made respite because of the injury it would probably be safer for us to disregard sleep for the remainder of our stay. 

Despite the setbacks this expedition is hardly the worst thing we've ever faced. Especially for those two, who once bore the entire weight of the world on their shoulders at an even younger age than they are now. Those two who conquered a hundred dungeons that none else would even dare to attempt. All of us who have have already seen what the afterlife has to offer and have persevered hand in hand through hordes of lost souls to save ourselves. I'm just a meager scholar, and I sit neck-deep in the place which has undoubtedly thwarted countless champions while weaving the past into language so that all might understand it's gravity. 

Once Braixen feels it's safe we will move on. Sleep is an impossibility so overstaying our welcome here will prove counter-intuitive and risk mental health we can't afford. I've stayed up studying for days longer than this, it's nothing at all. I refuse to believe we will not make it out of this alive.

###### 

Entry 9, 97 hours 42 minutes elapsed 

Irony may be the cruelest mistress of all, but none such accidental happenstance could compare to the cold realities that is the layer we have stumbled upon. I desperately write in the most mellow of it all and still shivers run down our spines and tears bang at the floodgates. It's not been ten hours since my last entry and already there is too much to be said, so many squalid moments compacted into such little time tends to bring a rush to the tongue, or in this case the fingers. May I begin by stating that there was no way we could have heeded the warnings any less to prepare for such a devastating existence. 

The only area prior to this was the same marble cliffs which I last tried to encourage myself, one was all the tower needed to force our hearts into submission. Far earlier in this journey I had compared the illusions which roamed freely amongst each environment to the fading spirits which haunted every corner of the Voidlands. Now I find that irony still tastes less bitter than what maliciousness Destiny Tower decided to inflict upon us. We are in the Voidlands now, or at least a carbon copy made to seem of the lower regions. It's this place that makes me wish perhaps we truly were standing in the Void and fending off souls and Dark Matter alike. Unfortunately my only hopes of expressing this area must seem a little too poetic for scientific relevance. 

Where we lurk now is possibly one of the most seldom and precious points we're ever going to find in this literal incarnation of hell. An overhang bears above us and brings shielding from light as well as attention, something all too common as much as it is unwanted. This is coupled with how we're at a high enough altitude that nothing should really stumble easily upon us. Even now though there are mocking calls and mournful cries echoing in the distance, our repentance continues on as I write. 

The initial shock of entering the Voidlands was one all too jarring and the last thing we expected. We figured eventually that it certainly was a difficult environment to survive after all, though none of us were too happy to have to traverse the dead lands again. Devoid of resources, relentless in geography, and filled to the brim with malevolent spirits. We were already running low on food and even lower on water, but I'm sure any of us would go without for a few hours more if only to escape from this place sooner. At the beginning it was entirely devoid and silent like the calm before a storm, not even a single illusion to give us an overview of what might appear here. It would be a while before we found our first trial and the information I was looking for. 

In our path stood the mirage of a Fennekin, yet almost immediately it washed over us that the mold had been broken. Around it's neck was the same scarf the partners wore two years ago during the Dark Matter crisis, the one made of the leaf cells from the Tree of Life. Against everything we could ever expect the illusion began to speak to us with a perfect rendition of a younger version of Braixen. To it we were a group of outlaws which they had taken a mission to defeat and bring to justice. Calling him by name, the Fennekin shouted for Servine to come near, or perhaps an illusion version of him elsewhere, and that it had found "them". 

###### 

Nobody would budge an inch until it began to rapidly strike fire in our direction. It would be I who was less affected by the trick and throw the first punch, bashing the younger Braixen into a far wall which would have surely caused the version from then to collapse. The inert endurance of a tower illusion came into effect as she rose again and redoubled her barrage against us. It shouted still for Servine's aid, a desperation growing on the fringes of it's voice. Braixen herself snapped out of the trance and unleashed a typhoon of flames fueled by rage upon the reproduction while screaming balefully. 

With it's last moments before it dispersed into the air, the Fennekin with a weak and pitiful voice called out a final time Servine's name to save her before becoming nothing. For a while the only thing that could be heard was the dull thrum of the Voidlands. Braixen suddenly would swing to Servine's side and harshly grasp his tiny hand, demanding that he never let go for the rest of the area. Without that physical assurance I'm not entirely certain we would have made it as far as we have. 

This would be the first of many more hallucinations meant to break us psychologically and tear our team cleanly apart. The tower prepared all the foils with a thousand lines which seemed to come straight from our mouths, trying endlessly to confuse and contort. Several times would a false Braixen appear from nowhere and attempt to convince him that he grabbed the hand of another illusion while his back was turned, and at times vice versa for the other. We all knew for certain that they had not once separated and fought away the sobbing mirages pleading lies until they thankfully disappeared. I had not needed to participate in the brilliant tactic, any fake version of me I handled myself without mercy. 

Of course there were also versions of other people significant in our lives. Both of the partner's foster parents from Serene Village would make multiple appearances carrying comforting sentiments (Braixen has been suffering a great deal especially from such encounters). The entire Society were undoubtedly present and attempting to convince us of murder and other atrocities. Some would try to reason with us, saying things to a similar caliber of "How do you know you're not really killing us?". Whenever my parents came, I handled them. 

As could be easily imagined, none of us got here without being very violently emotionally shaken. We would either move too quickly and make mistakes or move too deliberately and inhibit the progress we needed so that we could finally get out of here. Most of the heavily lifting and combat has actually fallen under my jurisdiction during this floor. Having found an Awakening emera, I gave myself to the power of mega-evolution and preformed as many of the painful deeds as was possible of me. The whole reason we've stopped now was the aftermath of the Awakening laid my body to waste and dropped my energy dangerously low. Braixen's leg wound understandably hasn't even crossed her mind the entire way through. I however can scarcely move enough to write this entry without pain erupting across my every being, though at least the burns sustained in the last few pages seemed to have mended while I changed forme. Now all I have to deal with is being unquestionably sore and having to stare tragedy in the face over and over.

###### 

It's not that I've suddenly become anymore strong or capable than the partners that I was able to take charge in this place. We musn't forget that not too long ago they were just kids enrolled in school and enjoying a simple enough life before they left for the Exploration Society. The roles they had to play in the impending apocalypse were so great that there was no time to develop a thicker skin while maturing so quickly. In particular I grew up at a very slow pace and took to the world mostly as I pleased, and I assume that means it's easier to find myself at peace with emotional duress. For them it was a constant flow of rescue missions and expeditions right out the gate, their fleeting ambition leaving very little room to grow a shell against these personal attacks. Only with mega-evolution could I match the unyielding prowess they possess while still maintaining a developed composure. 

I can't help but find all this to be so fascinating even as it tries to break us at every turn. How it employed our nightmares to parse what would get under our skin the most, the way it weaponized those aspects and pointed all of them at us at once. One could wonder if this place was truly shaped like the Voidlands, or if the tower perhaps just stole the sum of our worst experiences and simply borrowed it's face. Was any of what we saw and fought this whole time created of our own memories and not Destiny Tower itself? Could we have been shaping this hell the every moment we laid unconscious to rest? 

As is the common theme for my entire ascent, there is too much to wonder about and not the opportunity to do so. Once my strength returns to manageable levels we will make haste to the exit of this nightmare realm, or at least pray that there is one while searching. It is of absolute importance that we leave before any further psychological trauma or chance for incident occurs, lest we may find ourselves lost to Destiny Tower or starved to death. If we've arrived at somewhere so terrible then the end almost certainly must be within sight. 

It's a sickening feeling to wonder what kind of trials will be thrown into our path if there remains a path ahead to walk. A twinge of doubt rings in my heart that perhaps this might not be the zenith of our suffering. After all, the Weavile had to have made it past here intact if they were still accompanied by the Flygon in the second message. Unless of course the tower then had a similar order to now when their frosted scarps were just prior to this Voidrealm. Did that make any sense? Bah, there's no time to get lost in it all. We're all too tired of having to listen to the maddening calls of loved ones echoing from the valleys. We move now. 

 

###### 

Entry 10, 106 hours 37 minutes elapsed 

Silence. That's all that's been for the last few hours. Whether it's preferable to the hellish intents of the last area is unquestionable, but that may change come time. For the moment I'd choose twice as much of this desolation over half of the distress we dealt with just prior. That being said, I'm certain that's what we're supposed to feel at this point of our journey. With how deliberate the tower has been it's probable this emptiness is all a part of the gauntlet of schemes for us to persevere against. 

After the stop in the Voidlands Braixen and Servine were able to put a great deal of mental distance away from every clever jab at our paranoia. Still grasping the other's hand for dear life, they were able to contribute most towards the final grueling progression to the exit. Their preferred strategy was to preemptively strike out against anything before it had a chance to attempt manipulating us. This way all the baggage they carried was through visage alone, something useless against a hardened assault. 

I stayed as close as I could to their flank and kept watch for anything resembling an ambush or trap. If for a moment I was required to leave such a position it had to be absolutely known and acknowledged, lest I am mistaken for an illusion and justly dispatched. Fortunately for me this meant there was little to no further physical exertion required on my end, since the mega-evolution had taken so much out of me. Even now I can barely keep my head up and steady my hand to continue writing. That's also being contributed to by the ungodly amounts of exhaustion and shortage of water and food. We've been forced to eat and drink very little as to conserve enough so that we may pray to find some other minor bounties moving forward. 

Where we've ended up now, I cannot say for certain. The darkened blue of these halls seems rather similar to some of the ancient shrines located at the bottom of several chasms and dungeons across the world. There's a good chance that this place is likely a pristine condition of those shrines, places which are most commonly known for the treasures and worship that were left by cultures long forgotten. Typically there wasn't any kind of wall writing in such, and that remains to be true here. The main contrast between them is that the corridors we walk now are supernaturally silent. None of us can hear anything five feet away, the sound just fades away like there was invisible hands cupped over our ears. 

This kind of sensory deprivation has lead to more self-inflicted terror than anything else. Even with the absence of illusions we suffer hallucinations of a natural kind, especially so after the encounters of the last floor. It's almost a constant that someone believes to witness motion rushing by a dark corner or hearing something subtle collide with stone in the distance. I'm getting the feeling that's very much the intended affect of these chambers, and that this must be the next step in our sacred cleansing of sins as it were.

###### 

To counteract silence and beckon mercy from our minds, all we could do for the last few hours while we marched was talk aloud. By holding a conversation we are able to relinquish distraction altogether and fend off our imaginary demons for the time being. It's hard to believe we've walked miles in this tower without even having a friendly chat between all of us, for days we've been so focused on progress and our work that it was difficult to recall we were all friends in the first place. It probably helped that the last floor laid us bare for everyone else to see, that kind of opens the air a bit. 

The conversations would grow to become more personal as our feet grew more sore tapping away through this vast desolate shrine. Topics arose which pertained to otherwise silent ambitions, we would all get to know the other a little better by the time we set up camp (though Braixen and Servine could hardly do so with how close they already were). One such remarkable subject that ran past our tongues was why we were all climbing the tower in the first place, something that hadn't really crossed my mind having more depth than "We were called here".

My own such reasoning is quite obvious and something I've alluded to plenty of times throughout these journals. However, the partners had the intentions of inquiring about their own histories, something which was lost to a thousand years of time and several instances of amnesia. Even the original Mew was cleansed of their memories regarding Servine as a human and Dark Matter. They are assuming that Arceus of all pokemon would have at least a small portion of their past locked away and awaiting their arrival to be discovered again. Servine in particular had a slew of questions which all pertained to the phenomenon in which humans turn into pokemon, he prepared to practically quiz the deity on every branch of the subject. 

As the conversation turned towards me of what I would ask them I couldn't find the words. It hadn't occurred to me all this time that I may get the opportunity to speak with Arceus along with the partners for coming along. Technically my instincts would point towards having them indulge me with all sorts of creationist concepts and cultures long lost from records, but such a vague request seemed like pushing my boundaries with a god's time and patience. The only two people Arceus called upon were Braixen and Servine, it's realistic my presence might not even be warranted. 

It wouldn't be too much of a big deal if the only thing I got out of this tower was my notes. Just to be able to experience this sacred process which so little have completed is both an honor and a terrible challenge. At this rate it'll be months before I need to do any more field work, and I'm going to need all that time to decipher the immense bounty of research littering my papers. It can't be much longer until we finally escape this place and the partners have their sought-after audience.

###### 

Also not too long from now I'll try to find some rest in this little makeshift camp we've made on a floor of cold stone. As reluctant as we are to surrender to sleep after a day like today, I don't think we could go on much longer without it. There's a mixed feeling of anxiousness and hope I get when looking over at the unconscious masses of Servine and Braixen to my side. One one hand, they lay motionless and seem to be sleeping so peacefully that I would scarcely hear their breaths if it weren't so quiet. On the other, that could mean they've fallen under some terrible spell and are suffering in a near coma-like state. There's not much way of knowing until I make the attempt myself. At least this area is the most serene and tame we're ever going to encounter from here on. 

Perhaps I should work on what I'll say when finally face-to-face with the supposed creator? If traversing Destiny Tower is the prerequisite for their audience, I may very well get my chance to ask something about the old world, or perhaps a question pertaining to the tower itself? It's true that I haven't preformed in life the same caliber of amazing feats the partners have, but there's always a chance my modest career as a scholar coupled with my courage to personally research this place might swerve their attention. Such a quandary should be saved for after I've enough rest to think as straight as possible. Until then, I silently pray for a reasonable nightmare tonight. 

 

 

 

 

 

###### 

Entry 11, 129 hours 52 minutes elapsed 

We're so close now, there's no way around it. The fruits of our labor will so soon be just outside of grasp. This tower is starting to throw it's final defenses at our feet without a doubt. After it's trump card of attacking our hearts failed, the trials of brute strength and of nagging fear are the only few that remained. While we're not quite out of the woods yet, it's my firm belief that the worst of it has come to pass. 

This day was one of the many which begun far from auspicious. The dreams we feared yet braced to overcome for our own physical health had never actually came. What we figured was going to be a struggle ended up as a ceaselessly deep slumber which was devoid of dreams altogether. Nobody could recall a single thing which might have crossed their mind during the extreme lull, only the nothingness which encompassed it. After perhaps an astounding amount of time spent unconscious, we awoke separated in different parts of the shrine. 

Our eyesight was impaired from the darkness and we were all still affected by the deafening nature of the area. We couldn't call out to each other, so with a panicked haste we rushed through the halls and brushed away the inevitable harmless hallucinations. With fortune smiling upon us it wasn't long before I was able to find Servine stumbling around in the darkness with the same intentions. Braixen was a little more difficult to find, but the shrine had decided that she would remain in the same place as she slept, still clutching a stone and drooling absolutely knocked out. Gathering our things we set off together once again to rediscover the exit which Servine uncovered while on his own. Spirits were looking up from the lack of nightmares, but our stomachs felt empty and our throats desperately dry. 

The next leg of our journey would prove absolutely key in remedying this dangerous state. We found ourselves in the verdant depths of a thick forest, a kind of environment which always proves to satisfy in rebuilding our morale and supplies. Our canteens and bellies would be filled of water tasting slightly of the vegetation it thrived within and ripe fruits which some of the highest trees bore plentifully. If our famine and thirst persisted further into the now I doubt we'd have made so many revitalized strides. 

Besides our salvation, ghosts types and paranoia were the main attractions of this cloudy forest layer. It's likely in the image of a mossy woods found in the Mist Continent, somewhere known for the playful spirits which inhabit it. The illusions which finally made a reappearance certainly ensured that "playful" was discarded as an adjective for anything that lurked in the dense foliage. They took full advantage of their incorporeal form to inflict harm upon us and make us wary of every space occupied with anything. By sticking to clearings we avoided the worst of it through removing much opportunity to get a clean ambush on us.

###### 

Braixen was outright terrified the entire time despite there being not too much in the way of sheer difficulty. Either she would nearly black out whenever a ghost type were to get the drop on us, or apply an extremely generous amount of fire in it's general direction. A few places where an ambush was anticipated were preemptively flooded out with flames without another word on the subject. She would also often quicken the pace of the group and absolutely insist there was an entity on our tail, which might not have been entirely wrong. 

It's not entirely clear to me why there are normal layers following such unique trials that pushed our composure to limits never pressed before. Why would the climax of our nightmares and repentance be partway through the dungeon? Was it because of the eternally shifting nature the tower possessed which far surpasses the average anonymity involved with other mystery dungeons? Perhaps it was always meant to be in this strange order. Perhaps the final stretch of Destiny Tower was another vicious trial of a kind and these areas are meant to be some kind of spacing. I can't say I know for certain nearly anything of this place yet. 

To elaborate a little further, the respite I write at now is further beyond the ghostly forest, within a series of jagged mountains which seemed soaked with a kind of finality. Here the mists cut deep through every chasm and block out the distant horizon, the sun above peeks behind heavy clouds from it's fixated spot in the sky. A light powdery snow speckles against our vision and sticks gently to our bodies. From far beyond the fog there's the faintest sound of waves continuously crashing against jagged cliffs. Here, this is where the tower keeps it's dragon types. 

Obstructing the rugged beauty this place exudes is the ever-constant roars of the territorial dragons as they clash against each other in eternal combat. One is slain, their illusion fades into the snow, and another is reborn elsewhere to take it's place. For hours we have been subject to the sheer dominance and brutality associated with the typing. The crevice we've stashed ourselves away into rattles still with the echoes of their calls all around us, rock slowly crumbles away from the tremors caused by their great masses being flung about. We've exhausted our entire supply of Energy Seeds and over half of our remaining Reviver Seeds have disappeared in the last few hours. 

The game we're playing trying to traverse this area is a close one without a doubt. Dragons being preoccupied with each other actually makes it far more dangerous to move about than if all we had to do was avoid them. Their enraged attacks sweep across great areas without regard to any of the terrain and especially to us. Our past encounters when having to engage one of these illusions have already proven that flight is a far more efficient instinct than fight. Twice now we've nearly been blown off the mountain into the certain death below just because our strikes weren't quick or accurate enough, not even my typing can withstand their unbridled fury for too long.

###### 

Even with the dire consequences a mistake poses in this zone, everyone's adrenalized to continue through without any falter. It's a mutual energy we feel that guides us forward the last stretch of perseverance. As I've stressed again and again in these journals the end is just outside of our grasp. We've been worn down, broken, tossed and bruised by Destiny Tower so much in the last few days that pain is just another word for persistence. Any and all types of pain, the severing of muscle or the betrayal of a loved one once lost. It's been so long since I felt so motivated that even these records seem dull to what we could stand to gain by moving on. This will be the last entry I create before coming to face Arceus. My pen will do the rest from there. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

###### 

Entry 12, 140 hours 02 minutes. 

I stare down at a blanket of clouds which drifts by across the horizon and beyond. Their white tops reflect the hundred fiery shades radiated by the rising sun, and those colors only grow more vivid by the minute. Occasionally the pristine layer would break apart in a place and grant a glance at the isle's rich green hills or the rolling unsettled waves in the sea. A chilling and thin air dances through my lungs as well as my fingers, I stand with wide eyes at the top of the world. 

My body aches and my bag is light with emptiness, yet I will still leave this place far heavier than I began. At my back in the center of a great circular stone platform looms one of the most potent forces this world has come to know existence by, Arceus themselves in warm flesh and blood. I cannot hear the conversation they are having with Servine and Braixen, nor do I believe it's within my rights to know. Whatever lost knowledge is being bestowed upon them is their own past to keep. Although my being firsthand is of an archaeologist and historian, the legacy of Mew and the human is something only they can relinquish to the world. 

As par for the course, I will further cement this closure by recounting the final hours of our ascent in text. Where I last left off we were just beginning the crest the coast of dragons and sought to charge forth with flaming ambition. Without such fleeting valiance it's unlikely we'd have ever made it out of that place in one piece, it was required to thrive that we demonstrate the same ferocity as the inhabitants. Instead of avoiding battles altogether, we picked off victorious stragglers weakened from their battles for territory and carved a path straight through the cliffs. 

Many times during the onslaught did we nearly fall victim to the unstable grounds this area possessed. Entire passages were blocked off or crumbled into the ocean due to the destructive nature we were forced to take, at occasion our feet walked along these doomed paths during their just demise. The threat of separation, collapsing footholds, lack of progressive pathways, and limited tactical leg room made it additionally vital to scout ahead for compromised structures. Even thus far the prowess Servine expresses with his vines remained one of our greatest assets toward survival in more ways than one. 

This place was untamed and savage, but it was certainly not the final trial. The next test which we would endure was all too familiar behind the curtains of our memories. We would have to make the trek up Reverse Mountain once again, the zenith point of the Voidlands and representative of some of the least-welcomed nostalgia I've ever experienced. The symbolism was obvious, at the very peak of the mountain was the only exit from the Voidlands and the one way to return to the land of the living. Knowing that this mountain had to be the absolute final climb caused us to redouble our efforts.

###### 

Yet what could possibly exist in another place based from the Void other than nightmares? There were all manners of powerful pokemon, yet it was seemingly random at first what species appeared before us. We would find obviously dangerous and malicious species like Hydreigon and Gengar, but at the same time less menacing foes would appear around the corner like Munna. These unassuming figures would obviously still hold great enough powers by which to oppose us. It wouldn't be until a while and several more encounters later that I caught on to the significance of why these illusions took such forms. 

All of it started to click when a Dusknoir and Grovyle pair rushed to meet vine and flame. A topic which I've researched greatly in my time was the onset and deterring of the temporal apocalypse which took place not too many years ago on the Grass Continent. In the series of events I can recall the two pokemon having incredibly strong roles, and them coming at us paired off only furthered my growing suspicions. The gear thief and the betrayer, both known exclusively for the acts which they committed during the crises and both vilified at one point or another. My conclusion came as we witnessed a Nuzleaf with similar proportion to the one who lives in Serene Village and who played the traitor during the Dark Matter incident. 

We would fight through a gauntlet of the guilty stolen in image from all timelines while staring down at the dreary landscape of the Voidlands. Each step was loaded with a symbolic interpretation found only on similarly unique floors of the tower. I theorize that some of the latter floors are solidified in their positioning, this final stretch would only make sense if things occurred in the same order. Reverse Mountain would always be last regardless of how Destiny Tower felt that day. 

Despite my knowledge of the past, I don't know the sins of most of the faces we witnessed down below. The greatest transgressions committed by pokemon throughout time is something a single mortal like me cannot grasp so easily. However, I did notice another two particular illusions assaulting us in a close proximity with the other on the way up. Defeated barely with pillar of flame and chlorophyllic burst alike was the images of a Weavile and a Flygon. It occurred to me that perhaps these two came to Destiny Tower in their era for some external reason, knowing full well the concepts in effect here and what was waiting for them at the top. Of course there were many nameless others who lurked as phantasms along the inverted channels which I recorded so that I might seek their identities and crimes later on after we get home. Some of which made repeat appearances throughout, I guess there can't have been infinite sinners thus far. 

###### 

Our climb should have technically taken less time considering we knew our goal destination beforehand. Instead it seemed like it took even longer than any other normal floor, and possibly even longer than our original pilgrimage while turned to stone. Anticipation sat in the tips of our fingers as the delicate operation carried on and on, our hearts braced for the inevitable battle which would unfold at the very place that permit Servine and Braixen to become the world's salvation. This time we wouldn't have the assistance of a mighty trio of legendary beasts to reinforce the endeavor. 

When we arrived, however, all the reminiscence of carnage gave way to a set of golden translucent stairs leading into a ball of light gleaming down on top of us. From the base of the first step I noticed that the light beamed from the same position as the sun had in all the previous zones it was visible. A cute little detail to notice while we maintained a poised combat stance and took each flight with a grain of salt. Had we truly made it to the end? Was there no final confrontation, no last stand to shake the final shivers of resistance from our bodies? There was only one way to find out. Whether the stairway was an instrument of metaphor or literal interpretation I've no idea. 

We braved the blinding flare and stepped forth until the world rushed around us, in an instant our feet would find solid ground again. As disorientation passed and and our eyes readjusted the first encompassing sight of a night sky so close that the stars appeared twice as large. On the far horizon glowed the impending signs of a sunrise not too far away, and by the heavens moving above we finally knew that it was over. 

It hasn't been too long since then. Arceus had soon made their presence known in the center of this circular platform, shortly after the stars disappeared in exchange for a virulent radiance of oranges and blues. I'd say the looming presence of their true flesh is just a little more overwhelming in comparison to the touching beauty of a morning view spent in the stratosphere. It feels as though this still isn't the highest altitude we had to breath at during our ascent, the frozen mountain gave a far greater feeling of being scarce for oxygen. 

I'm personally still just trying to process everything that's ran through my senses over the past few minutes as well as the whole journey. This view and meeting Arceus, all the observations I made in the several days I've been away, the monumentous task I competently assisted Braixen and Servine with that so few have undergone ever. Naturally it's going to take a long while afterward for me to fully comprehend the feelings that tangle in my chest while twisting pen on this modest paper. I'll have plenty enough time anyway, the study and decryption of all that I've found will surely have me locked away in my room for weeks to come. 

###### 

To my surprise I really was given an opportunity to have a short audience with Arceus, under the pretense that researchers typically don't undergo the most perilous of ancient sacred trials just to gather data. When the interaction arose a flood of possibilities flew through my mind and dodged the tip of my tongue. Anything I'd ever want to know, all I had to do was ask and there would be an answer waiting for me. At such a significant moment in time only two insignificant questions would cross into existence. 

Why was the last area the way it was, based from Reverse Mountain and filled with so many errant faces?

"It's setting is an obvious one, something you would personally understand from having scaled it before. The last few to have ever climbed the real instance and kept their sanity whole took place hundreds of years ago. Your firsthand experience is a blessed thing to have in your interests. Within this more recent realm you conquered, the visage of many a wrongdoing or wronged being whom was subject to the negative perspectives of many more. Dark Matter is not the only entity which senses the cynical forces which accumulate at the fringes of our minds. Not all were sinners, some even died as martyrs and were known with admiration. Some of which even still inhabit the realm of the living as we speak." 

The next subject I inquired upon was one borne of impulse, something to bring about closure to a begging string of curiosity. What was the fate of the Weavile who had made this ascent so long ago? 

"The life of the Weavile was one of exile, shunned from their parent tribe due to cowardice and hunted about the Mist Continent for thievery. He would come to meet and band together with a Flygon who suffered from similar circumstances regarding a terrible growing infamy. Chased to the ends of the land, they would succumb to desperation and extort a Gyarados to carry them across the sea towards a chance at redemption. Their attempt to climb Destiny Tower was to clear their names and bring about an ends to the constant pursuit which they suffered from. The Flygon would perish fending for the Weavile to make their escape from foes who would most naturally cause his demise. Alas, the Weavile would meet their end next to the savage ways of the dragons, alone and too starved to fight back." 

Any mystery in the known universe could have been resolved at my fingertips, and at most I would choose to bring conclusion to two insignificant souls whom so many deplored in their era. The little poetic part of me is thrilled to have uncovered the deaths of some otherwise hapless and nameless individuals. The other parts despise every inch of my ceaseless intrigue and shout more and more that I've just wasted a priceless opportunity on nothing. I'm not even certain it's possible to do good of someone who lived hundreds of years ago and was forgotten. Essentially all they are in the universe is what I've contracted myself and what I've heard from Arceus' bounty of knowledge. 

###### 

Regardless, it's too late to turn back on any choices I've settled upon. From outside of the tower we'll finally be able to get reception on our gadgets, allowing us to re-establish connection with Ampharos and Dedenne. The call will be made as soon as we're finished with business here. Our badges will also begin to respond again and we may safely make the teleportation to the ground at any time. From there we will wait and rest while the Society sends a Lapras service to our location. God knows we'll need a few days to recover from our injuries and strain. 

I'll do a full report and analysis upon arriving to the compound once again, these journals while expressive aren't extremely useful for discerning facts or decrypting glyphs. Even with the climb over I musn't forget that my duty has technically only just begun. These findings are some of the largest in the last decade if one were to exclude the unintentional gains from the Dark Matter incident. While the sun rises with full grandeur over the clouds, I'd like to take the time to express my gratitude towards both Servine and Braixen, to whom I owe a great debt in far too many ways than could be paid. Now, it's about time we returned home. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

###### 

**Author's Note:**

> -Originally completed in January 14th, 2016


End file.
